Rooftop
by blacksouledbutterfly
Summary: Here we are now though, I am taking care of you. You are so broken, so hateful, so hurt that I can do nothing but take care of you.


_Cause I am playing god  
I am raising hell  
as far as I can tell  
I am all alone, alone in this world  
alone..._  
**-Rooftop by Melissa McClelland**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sit there watching me. You don't say anything to me. You just watch me with cold, distant eyes. I remember a time when those eyes were beautiful. They were still cold, still distant, but full of life. Now they belong to a dead man.

You tilt your head, take a deep breath. It sounds like dying. Your breath is shallow, your body weak and pale, shallow skinned. You look like death itself. Somewhere along the line you became so broken that I couldn't seem to find the pieces I needed to put you back together. Some of them vanished, scattered to the wind, and the funny thing is you didn't seem to give a damn. Not at all, not one tiny bit.

Thunder rumbles in the distance like a dark reminder of the pain we are both in. I remain crouched down, watching you watching me. What a beautiful mess we are. Did you ever expect that? Us to be a beautiful anything? "It's going to rain," I tell you.

"You're wearing heels."

"Hmm?"

"You're wearing heels. You never wear heels. Not since the Yule Ball."

I reach out, push hair off of your cold forehead. "They're my Mom's. I had a date tonight, remember? Mum set me up. To stop me from thinking of you."

You smile, almost ruefully. "Right. The date. What was his name? Finn. No, Flynn. Alexander Flynn. Was he a nice bloke? Was he good to you?"

My throat is tight. "Do we have to talk about it? It doesn't matter, does it?"

"I want to know."

I sniffle slightly. I realize how cold I am. How hurt I am. Can't you see what you are doing to me? You are looking at me like you are saying goodbye to me. Your voice, your eyes, your body language. All a goodbye, a premature one. "Yeah, yeah he was nice. He was very nice to me. Respectful. But he's not you. He's not you and that's all that matters."

You rest your head against the wall behind you, taking a breath, swallowing hard like it hurts. Maybe it does. "Heh, that's a good thing, Hermione. I'm not good for you, remember?"

"No...no, that's not true. You know that's not true. I love you." I cupped you face. "You know I love you. So much."

"That's the problem, Hermione. You shouldn't love me. Its going to hurt you."

"Please, stop."

This struggle between us, this act of pushing back and forth between the two of us was like ripping my lungs out. It burned and it killed me inside. This was a deadly game we were playing. Your pricked me, watched me bleed, but somehow I was drawn to you. I couldn't fight it, couldn't control it. If I had to live forever without you I don't think I'd survive.

"I'm flying."

I press my hand to your forehead. Merlin, you're burning up. "No, you're not. Your right here with me. We're not flying. You know I hate flying."

"No, Hermione, we're not flying. I am...my head....its spinning." You started to slide down, your seat no longer supporting your weight. I reach forward and grab your shoulder. You smile up at me, however weak it is. There is such fragileness in your smile, a broken look in your eyes. "I...I can't...I'm so tired, Hermione. So very tired."

Moisture drips down my pale cheeks. Merlin, I'm crying. Why do you always do this to me? Too many times have you made me cry, made me feel as though the whole world was falling down around me. "I know. I know you're tired. I know, but you have to stay awake, okay? We need to get you inside. Its....its so cold out here. We have to get inside."

"Is it cold? Huh. Hmm...I'm always cold. You remember, right? At night. I can never get warm. I shiver, you wrap your arms around me, but I'm never warm. This....this cold...its from the inside."

I glance away from you. Something inside of me is crying harder than I ever could on the outside. This...this is just a broken situation. There is nothing here that can make this better, there is nothing that will make you happy again, nothing that will protect you from yourself, or me from your demons. You are just so beautifully broken. You tear yourself apart, rip your flesh from bone, and leave me to pick up the pieces, watching you stumble, picking you up as you fall, helping you keep that strong mask you put on to make it through the day. "It's going to rain," I tell you. "Can't you smell it? It's going to rain."

"That's good, Hermione. I love the rain."

"You can't sit here in it."

"Can't go inside either. But...but you should. If you're worried about catching a cold, you should go inside. Get out of the rain."

"No. If you stay in the rain, I'll stay in the rain. I'm not going inside without you."

In the distance, thunder roars. There is a chill in the air that I can't get rid of. I wrap my arms around myself, but my arms and my sweater can't help keep me warm. My chill is internal, my suffering in my mind. I wish I could wash away the hurt that exists in this place, but the darkness is overwhelming, and your pain makes mine stronger, and mine is blinding.

Soft drops of rain start to fall from the sky. They land on your cheeks, roll down your face. You smile at the sky. At that moment you seem like a child, so innocent, easily amused by the most menial things. "It's beautiful, isn't it Hermione?"

"Yeah....it's beautiful."

The rain falls harder, I can hardly see more than six feet in front of myself. "Please, can we go inside?"

"You can go...I want to stay."

It always seems like this. Every time I need to do something you think the opposite.

I think about the times we've spent together. Times when you were happy, when you were healthy. I remember the times when we would lie awake, you would wrap your arms around me, tell me I was the most beautiful person you ever met. You would kiss away my tears, make me feel like the world was perfect as long are us two were together.

Here we are now though, I am taking care of you. You are so broken, so hateful, so hurt that I can do nothing but take care of you. I keep you from losing yourself, keep you from fading away.

But I am fighting a losing battle. I can't change what you don't try to change in yourself, can't make you into someone you don't want to be, can't begin to be the glue that holds you together when I myself am falling apart at the seams. Cannot do the impossible when you don't help me.

I look at you again, watch the rain falling over your face, you hair in your eyes. There is a tight pain in my chest. I want to help you with all of my heart but something inside of me is shattered, and you are far more broken than I. Your eyes start to slip shut, your whole body relaxes. My heart tightens. "Come on, Draco. You have to stay awake." I reach over, slap you lightly on the face. "You need to let me take you somewhere. So St. Mungo's. Somewhere. Please, Draco, let me help you."

"Let it go, Hermione. Let it stop." You glance at me. You smile weakly, reaching up and pushing my hair out of my face. "This....this is....it has to end sometime, Hermione. I have hurt you so much, so badly. I have made your life so hard-"

"No, Draco."

"Yes, I have. I have hurt you so badly. It's not....it's not worth it anymore, Hermione."

"It is, Draco. It is. I...I want you to stay here with me. I love you."

"I know, and I love you too. And for that, I'm sorry. You are...the best thing of my life." You take a ragged breath. "I want you to be happy, and I can never make you happy. I can never make you want to be better."

Hot tears roll down my face, mixing with the cold of the rain. My skin burns. "Draco, please."

You give me one of those infuriating smirks. "Come here, Hermione. Give me a kiss, love."

My body is shaking as I lean down and press my lips to yours. My heart shatters because I know I will never be the same again. Your lips all cold, your body weak. You are slowly dying, almost gone. When you pull back you smile at me. "I want you to live for me, Hermione. Live for me, be happy."

"I can't. I need you."

"You don't need me. You're so much stronger than you realize." You close your eyes, lean your head against the wall. "I'm very tired, Hermione. Leave me here for a while. Go inside, dry off."

I stand up, shaking. You give me one of those encouraging smiles that are so rare from you. I start to walk backwards towards the door, watching your breathing become shallow. Your hand extends in front of you, falling limply to the side. The syringe falls from your pale fingers, rolling away from you and into the dark.

I turn away from you, hurry inside.

I cannot stand there and watch you hurt yourself anymore. I know tomorrow you will feel better, perhaps have a cold, perhaps have the chills, but you would be better. But for now I could not watch you in this state.

But tomorrow I will help you again.

Tomorrow I will do what I always do, and be there when you need me.


End file.
